Work Text:
Hyo has never celebrated the new year before, not because she dislikes the holiday, she’s rather indifferent to it at the best of times, but because she’s never had anyone to spend it with. This year, however, is different. She has Zanka, who is also indifferent towards the new year, but he insists on at least ordering a nice meal to mark the occasion.
“Holidays are just an excuse to get together and eat more food than your stomach can handle,” he says while polishing his staff. “Ain’t that worth celebratin’?”
Hyo hums over the rim of her coffee mug, the rising steam blurring her vision in half. It’s the morning before the new year and the Cleaners have, thankfully, been experiencing a lull in job requests, so she and Zanka are having a lazy morning in his room. Perhaps trash beasts also have holiday plans to attend with their trash families. Must be nice.
For the record, Hyo has a plan for tonight that she intends to see through: a new year’s kiss.
Her and Zanka have been together for a couple of months now in every way but one - physically. They haven’t kissed, haven’t held each other, haven’t done anything beyond the occasional handholding and, in rare cases, wrapping an arm around the other’s shoulder while watching TV. She’s not opposed to taking things slowly, in fact she prefers it that way, but the time has come to implement a new element to their relationship.
Once Zanka’s initial shock wore off after Hyo joined the Cleaners back in autumn, they’ve spent almost every waking moment together, so much so that he’s already become an ingrained part of her daily routine. That being: wake up, eat breakfast with Zanka, train with Zanka, lounge around with Zanka, go on missions with Zanka, eat dinner with Zanka, talk until the dead of night with Zanka - rinse, lather, repeat.
Tonight, she’d like to add “kiss Zanka” to that list. If possible, she'd like to add it to the list several times over and check it off daily. Maybe even hourly.
“Hey.” He stops what he’s doing at the sound of her voice, looking over to her expectantly. She takes a breath and the steam from her coffee momentarily clears away. “I’m going to kiss you tonight at midnight.”
Zanka squeaks, almost dropping Lovely Assistaff, his face a bright shade of red. “W-w-why’re ya tellin’ me this now?!”
Hyo shrugs and takes another sip of her coffee. “Figured you should know.”
He doesn’t respond, but she can’t help but notice him rubbing polish on his staff much faster and harder than before.
For the rest of the day, Zanka is pink, high-pitched, and overall on edge. If Hyo didn’t know any better, she’d say that he’s preparing himself to sit on the idyllic golden throne that he’s spent his life building up in his head. Is kissing really that monumental? Has he done it before? With someone else? He was popular back in the academy, as far as Hyo remembers, but she doesn’t think he dated anyone. Then again, he doesn’t have to date someone to kiss them, regardless of what those romance magazines say.
By the time dinnertime rolls around, he’s quick to run out the door to pick up their food, telling her to wait for him in his room. She does, sitting next to Lovely Assistaff on the loveseat he brought in the day after they started dating. He returns in a huff, his cheeks red and his hair disheveled, with a bag of hot, deliciously spiced food dangling in his hand.
“Welcome back.” She gets up to help him with the food, but he raises a hand to stop her. From this distance, she can see the subtle shine of balm on his lips.
“I got it, you can sit down and start celebratin’.”
Hyo tilts her head to the side. “How should I go about doing that?”
“B-by relaxin’!”
Zanka hustles and bustles around her, setting out plates, cups, and utensils on the small table that sits between the loveseat and television set. His hands are shaking.
“Is it cold outside?”
He looks up. “Huh? Why’re you askin’?”
Hyo settles back down on the couch and takes one of his hands in hers. It’s warm. Hot, even. “Hm. I suppose not.”
His hand trembles between her palms, so she strokes small circles around his knuckles with her thumb. It’s supposed to be a soothing gesture, if the romance novels she’s been reading are to be believed, but for some reason it only seems to make matters worse.
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah,” he starts before clearing his throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re shaking, for starters.”
“That’s just ‘cause it was cold outside!”
“You’re burning up, though. Are you sick?”
“No!” He pulls his hand away and she can’t help but notice that she’s the one who feels cold now. “We should eat while the food’s still hot.”
Hyo eats her food slowly and deliberately, mindful to not get anything caught in between her teeth. Should she brush them before midnight? Or maybe drink something sweet to wash the savory flavors from the rice and curry away? Is there an etiquette to kissing someone, or can she figure it out as she goes? The magazines don’t really specify and the characters in her novels just dive right into it without explaining the process of how they got there. Lean in, close eyes, press lips together - that’s all she’s gathered from the sacred texts.
But what is she supposed to do after their lips touch? Stay still? Move them around? The novels mention something about tongues, but, again, they don’t explain how they come into play.
Hmm. Maybe she should ask Zanka. He’s exponentially more gifted with social skills than she is, so he’ll probably know what to do even if he’s never kissed anyone before. Plus, he’ll be on the other end of this kissing conundrum, so his input is the only one that really matters as far as Hyo’s concerned.
“Hey, Zan-”
To assume that he’s silently going into cardiac arrest in the seat next to her is not an unfair assessment, but his awkward, uneven smile and bugged out eyes put that theory to rest. When he senses her gaze, his face immediately contorts back into its original, stoic mold. She still hasn’t quite figured out why he does that, but right now that mystery is low on her priority list.
“Need somethin’?” He starts to get up, setting his food down on the table. “I can get it for-”
“When I kiss you, what should I do with my tongue?”
A yelp escapes his mouth as he falls back down on the couch with the force of someone who’s just been shot. His eyes are blown wide like dinner plates and the blush on his cheeks is racing down his neck, lost somewhere underneath his high collar.
“Wha-WHAT KINDA QUESTION IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE? ARE YA MAKIN’ FUN OF ME?”
Hyo blinks and tries to find the humor in her question, but ultimately comes up short. “Is using your tongue supposed to be… funny?”
Zanka wrings his hands in front of his chest as his eyes flicker from one side to the next, never looking at her head-on. “I-I mean… if ya want to use your t-t-tongue,” he pauses, takes a breath, then another breath, and then another. “You can just um… poke me with it? …And I’ll um… open my mouth.”
In all her life, Hyo’s never seen a deeper shade of red than the hue that’s boiling on Zanka’s face right now, which is saying something considering all the bloodshed. Still, she nods and goes back to her meal. Zanka, on the other hand, doesn’t touch his food again for the rest of the night.
When midnight is only a few minutes away, Zanka begins preening himself - running his fingers through his hair, checking his breath, applying more balm to his lips - and Hyo wonders if she should be doing the same. Since finishing dinner, she’s had a glass of water with a mint, and she’s certain that there’s nothing between her teeth, so there’s nothing to worry about on that front. But should she be fussing with her hair? What’s the point if their eyes are going to be closed?
She’s already asked too many questions tonight as it is, so for once she’ll follow his lead and straighten her hair out. It’s already straight, but maybe it’s the effort that counts.
On TV, the news broadcaster begins counting down the last remaining ten seconds. Hyo shifts in her seat to face Zanka and finds that he’s already poised and waiting.
“Are you ready?”
He nods, his smile wobbly and giddy all at the same time. “‘Course I am.”
Five seconds left and Hyo leans in towards his face.
Four seconds and she trails her fingers up his sensitive neck.
Three seconds and he runs his hands through her hair and settles them along the sides of her face and the back of her head.
Two seconds and she closes her eyes.
One second left and their lips touch, soft and gentle and delicate, afraid to shatter the moment. Hyo can’t help but wish that time would stand still for just a second longer.
“Happy new year!”
A staticky chorus of cheers erupt on the TV screen while blasts of fireworks flare up the sky outside, but she hears none of it as their lips begin to sway against one another. Instead, all she can focus on is the sound of Zanka’s breathing mingling with the heavy beats of her heart. He’s the closest anyone has ever physically been to her, but right now it still doesn’t feel close enough. She climbs onto his lap and presses herself into him further, one of his hands gliding down to pull her into him by her waist.
Their lips move against each other awkwardly at first, but they’re quick to find an even rhythm that feels almost as if they are one entity that has finally been reunited. She can’t even begin to fathom where her lips end and his begin, it’s all just softness and heat and the sweet taste of his lip balm.
Hyo caresses the back of Zanka’s neck and he moans into her lips, his hands trailing up and down her back as though he wants to mold their bodies together like clay. With her chest pressed flush against his and her legs straddling his hips, only one path remains to draw him even closer: slowing down the pace of their kiss, Hyo pokes his lips with her tongue just as he instructed.
Without hesitation, he opens his mouth in a fit of hunger, his tongue meeting hers like a long lost lover. They take their time with this new advancement, each of them mapping out the added space with intrigue. Hyo finds an area of interest in the back of Zanka’s throat - the farther she goes, the more he moans as his body melts into the couch.
Sadly, the downside of using their tongues is that they eventually have to take a break for air. Zanka’s breaths are heavy with the scent of mint, his heat warming her skin more than the steam from her morning coffee. She’s sure that by now her cheeks are just as red as his, her pupils just as wide, but she can’t fathom herself being even half as beautiful as he is right now lying underneath her.
Zanka pulls her down into his embrace, her head fitting snugly in the crook of his neck where she plants small kisses in between content sighs. They fall asleep like that, pressed into one another like two halves of a whole, their breaths rising and falling in tandem as they forget the passage of the new year in its entirety.
When she wakes up in the morning, still curled up in Zanka’s arms, Hyo will decide that New Year’s Eve is her favorite holiday. In fact, it might be the only one worth celebrating.